


alone, together

by aesthotic



Category: Morrissey (Musician), The Smiths
Genre: M/M, Softcore Porn, Stalking, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 10:05:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18118598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aesthotic/pseuds/aesthotic
Summary: Things get strange when Johnny realizes what the mewls coming from Morrissey were. But I mean, be prepared for what you're going to see when you decide to stalk someone, stupid.





	alone, together

**Author's Note:**

> johnny is high key stalking Morrissey. Morrissey is doing his own thing in his room.

It was just like every other afternoon Johnny had experienced, nothing too great after he had ended his shift. That was, until he remembers the date. October 17th. A Thursday. 

He loudly tapped his black boot on the pharmaceutical floor mat, awaiting Andy to make his way behind the counter so he could ditch the keys with him for the day and go off on what awaited him everyday after work. 

After work is when Johnny's day begins to start. Or, how he'd like to live it anyway. 

"Sorry, Johno, there was this thing on the bus when I was coming over- would've been here sooner." the keys were exchanged between them and Johnny gave him an understanding nod, or at least he tried to. "Why do you think crazy people always ride buses, anyway? Maybe cos nobody trusts em behind a wheel, ay?" Johnny wanted to turn around instantly and just book it out the door, but with the recording of security cameras, he'd have to give in to the dumb rule of waiting for someone to clock in to clock yourself out.

This was the thing he hated about his fairly simple pharmacy job. People. Specifically, the man in front of him currently. He hadn't hated Andy or anything, he usually just talks for so long that he has Johnny mentally pleading for him to clock in so he can leave almost everyday.

Johnny had more pressing matters and it never ceased to make him late for his afternoon plans. "Alright, I have to start shelving the women's personal supplies again. You know how that goes." Andy raised his eyebrows with a playful manner after her clocked in, patting his hand on Johnny's shoulder before heading over the the aisle. Johnny grimaced to the odd contact, wiping the look off his face as he punched out for the day and made his way out the store. 

Finding he wouldn't be as late, he slung his satchel bag across himself with a pleasant feeling ringing about him. He clambered onto the bus, snagging himself a back seat next to the window. he pressed play on his walkman and leaned back into his seat. the hard metal jabbed into his shoulder blade but he was carried away with the music and felt close to nothing with the sweet sounds persuading him in a distant dream land. 

his eyes danced to the scenery out the window, dark streets and cloudy skies. nothing all that different, but today they seemed brighter. more orangey tinted and warm in his vision, despite the nipping cold he experienced on his walk over to the bus in the first place. 

The bus was slowing to a stop on a familiar street and Johnny instinctively sat up. The ride halted, Johnny left his seat and hopped off the bus. 

His thin legs carried him down the sidewalk, towards the house. As he walked on, he noticed it was turning to a rushed speed-walk when his boots had hit the sidewalk in a glorious set of quick thuds. As the house came into view, Johnny fixed his leather jacket, suddenly conscious of himself. 

The house was at the end of the street, accompanied by a set of rose bushes and a large wall signifying the end of the housing. The house wasn't that great, small and cozy as Johnny described it.

He reached the house and came to a stop. He wanted more than anything to ring the doorbell or just knock, but realistically, he knew better.

Johnny made his way to the back of the house, stretching his hand over the top of the fence into the backyard. his fingers danced around for the lock, lifting up when he found it. 

With a satisfying 'click!' the gate slowly opened. Johnny passed the gate, pushing it closed and furthering out into the backyard. The garden greeted him with a warm praise, the array of different coloured gladioli flowers inviting him amongst the bushes. He accepted the invitation and sank behind the bushes of the garden and pulled his camera out. snapping one of his fingers touching the delicate flowers. 

He curiously lifted his camera towards the window, the curtains were drawn back slightly and he could see corner of the room. The window had been opened a tad bit, maybe only four or five inches. After realizing he wouldn't be able to see much from the distance, he stood up. 

He padded over to the back of the house, careful not to be in view of the back door. His hands lightly brushed over his camera as he leaned towards the opening through the curtains. 

Morrissey was standing with his back turned, pressing play to a record. Johnny instantly recognized what it was. The Shangri-Las. His favorite, Johnny recalls all of the times he had heard it coming out of the record player. 

Johnny found it weird how they had quite the similar taste in music, almost like he was made to be his companion. Johnny found himself wondering what other things they had in common that he was unaware of. 

Morrissey's arms raised up as he clearly felt the music flow through him, humming along and swaying from more than one direction. Johnny watched with parted lips as Morrissey turned up the volume, started to spin about his room. 

Johnny lifted his camera, snapping photos of the man prancing around in ways that made Johnny's head spin. 

It was very charming, very Morrissey of him. Expected for him to get lost in himself and dance away how he felt to the rhythm. The man pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, only for them to slide back down to the tip of his nose. 

The camera clicked twice, trying to capture the way Morrissey's lips came to a small, sweet frown as he gave a hopeless huff at his own glasses. He needs new ones, Johnny thought to himself. 

He wasn't complaining, though. Moz looked cute when he was frustrated with the simple things. Such as the time his belt loop and broken and he only liked the way the pearls hung off the broken loop, complaining childishly as he ran a hand through his quiff. That only upset him further once he realized he ruined his hair.

"Need to get new ones." Johnny heard him say over the close to blaring music. 

Morrissey then swapped out his album for another, sure to place his Shangri-Las album in its respective spot near his bed. 

The tune progressed and Morrissey began to feel it, moving to the lyrics and rhythm as he felt needed. The song sped up, resulting in Moz to quicken his pace. Johnny watched in awe as the beautiful creature in front of him let his feelings out through dance. 

His movement was giving Johnny all the right views of Morrissey's body. His eyes scanned over his frame, his delightfully exposed collerbones in his midway buttoned dress shirt teased Johnny. As did the man's narrow waist, he loved everything about his anatomy. Even his fingers were attractive to Johnny. 

As Morrissey danced, Johnny could see the small glistening shine on his cheek. He snapped a quick photo. 

Johnny noticed a pattern with the dancing Morrissey did, his movements might have usually matched a song, but he never seemed to do too much. Johnny was never worried he may pull something. Morrissey was delicate in his eyes, to be taken care of and adored. 

As seen when he feels discouraged, his eyes downcast as his fingers unconsciously tangle between themselves. Johnny wishes nobody ever seized the opportunity to hurt him, as he was vulnerable and to be protected. quite obviously, he has had to have been letdown or even mistreated by various others. How else would this nature run about? 

Johnny hated to say he found it adorable, but he did. He despised Morrissey feeling upset by someone, but his cuteness catches him and holds him there to admire Morrissey. 

Everything catches Johnny when it's about Morrissey. His way of not expressing himself fully that leaves Johnny asking himself if what he said was too much for Morrissey, or if his actions were underwhelming and he was just like everyone else to him. He'd like to think not. 

It was clear to Johnny that he had loved Morrissey for years. Yet, he knew how far that would go. Maybe Moz would just stare at him until Johnny would explain it was a joke, which it wasn't. 

He knew Morrissey would likely think it was a cruel joke at his expense and brush it off. Even if he hadn't liked Johnny that way, or maybe if he did, he would still do the same. 

Johnny himself was basically friend-zoned there. Morrissey had options. He was ethereal and single, a dream come to life. A beauty you'd imagine yourself meeting in a place too extravagant for you or anyone you could think of. Unattainable. 

As Morrissey was unattainable, he was also unwilling. Or he couldn't be capable of loving to his fullest. As explained when Johnny asked a friend why it was that Steven hadn't been taken, as the good ones usually were. His friend went on about how Morrissey had told him he wants love but is unaware on how to accept it and reciprocate it to his hearts fullest desire. 

Johnny felt bad, guilty because he knew Morrissey would hate him if he knew there was the slightest pity towards him.

He hadn't exactly pitied Steven. It was for the fools who couldn't see what they had been missing out on. 

Johnny snapped back to his senses when he heard a creak of Morrissey's bed. 

Morrissey was laying down with his body neatly placed on his bed, his head slightly tilted to the side as his breathing slowed. Had he really taken a nap as Johnny zoned out?

Johnny shook his head at himself. Stupid, he thought. This was the only day out of the week he had enough time to see this. Morrissey being carefree and happy before his normal boring schedule and occasional get togethers where he and Morrissey would talk various times throughout the night, only for Johnny to fail socially every time. 

He was about to pack it up and head off when he heard a light gasp. Johnny's eyes flickered over towards Steven. His lips were parted as another light gasping sound floated out of his mouth. 

His head turned with a mewl escaping his lips, the position of his legs shifting ever so slightly. The sound piqued Johnny's interest, making him forget he was about go leave a second ago. 

Morrissey shifted his position entirely, now laying in his side, giving Johnny a clear view of his face. A breathy pant and the small bucking movement of Steven's hips painting an intimate picture of Morrissey. Specifically, what Johnny would like to see in front of him. He wanted to see the man lose all composure, forgetting his usual state. He wanted to see his disheveled hair and lips pink and swollen from endless kisses, sweat glistening on his smooth skin. 

Johnny's eyes traveled to the exposed skin of his chest, the necklace Morrissey wore gave his skin a delicate touch. "A-ah!" He panted, quickly pushing himself up as he awakened from his dream.

Johnny almost jumped out of his skin, holding a hand over his mouth before he could give himself away. 

Morrissey's chest lifted and fell with his heavy breaths, he rubbed his eyes then his face. After a moment of leaving his hands on his cheeks, he lifted them from his face and played his palms flat on his knees. He began to let his hands rise on the jeans he wore, giving his thighs a twice over before stopping directly on his groin. His bottom lip was lightly caught between his teeth while he stared at his hands.

Johnny's eyes widened a bit and he swallowed roughly, what was he about to see? Should he just stop now? Yeah, he'd been spying on Morrissey for like two months on every Thursday, but shouldn't there be a line? He never saw this much of Morrissey. 

He usually saw the usual, him reading, dancing, singing and playing with his cat. He's never once seen Morrissey masturbate and he's at a loss for words. 

Morrissey's hand pressed down, starting his hand movement in a slow circular motion as his breath hitched. He propped himself up on his free arm, leaning on his elbow with his forearm flat to the mattress. He picked up speed, palming himself a bit quicker, a small mewl and a shudder complimenting the motion. 

This was a sight marvelous and unworthy for Johnny's eyes, he didn't deserve to see the world's most perfect specimen this way. Yet, he couldn't dare himself to look away from the red flushed cheeks of Morrissey. His eyes were hungry for the event unraveling in front of him, taking in the wondrous stifled moans and lip bites.

Morrissey began moving his hips against the direction of his hands movement, causing him to throw his head back and release a raw gasp at the friction he started. 

Johnny felt himself tighten at the scene, trying to keep his own hands still so he wouldn't feel the burning guilt of getting off to someone unknowingly providing him with the image. It was hard, he ended up placing his hands against the wall like an idiot. 

Steven's eyes were half-lidded as he could hardly keep his head up, moving hardly against himself. His right leg bent and lifted off from the bed involuntarily as he could no longer lift himself up, the top half of his body lightly bouncing as his arm straightened. The pleasure was getting to him and his body was giving it away. 

Morrissey's head lolled off to face the window, his eyes involuntarily shut before he tried to reopen them. His eyes were only opened half way when Johnny realized the blue orbs were looking directly at him. His mouth ran dry and his soul left his body, Steven saw him. Johnny was about to take off running for cover when Morrissey gave him a small smirk as a moan sang out of him, causing him to push his head back into his pillow. 

A tight feeling made its way to his gut, seeing Morrissey acknowledge his presence and be fine with it was giving him an extreme hard on. His heart pounded as the eyes of the other looked back to him

Johnny could've came squarely off the eye contact and Morrissey's vocal moans, as painful as that would be for someone to think about. It was true. The man before him was that captivating and gorgeous.

"Aah!" He groaned, staring at Johnny through his long eyelashes, "J-Johnny!" He shivered, his hands going quicker in the opposite direction. 

The man stared hungrily at the man before him, eyes dark and awaiting what he knew was next. His head spun as he heard Morrissey moan out his name, it was all he wanted in the last moment, besides Steven himself. "Baby, don't hold back."

Morrissey gave a lazy nod, biting his lip before he felt the sensation start to build up, "Johnny! I'm-" he couldn't finish his own sentence as the pleasure clearly started to become too much for him too handle. 

"That's it, baby. Call my name loudly, love." 

Morrissey's body twitched and he threw his head back one final time, "Johnny!" he called out loudly with a long string of vocal moans, the rawness in his voice sending chills up Johnny's spine as he watched Morrissey come. 

Johnny felt goosebumps rise on his arms and marvelled at the sight of Morrissey's exposed chest heaving up and down as his moans shifted into pants. He turned towards Johnny, giving him a shy smile as he caught his breath, strands of hair stuck on his forehead. Johnny smiled fondly at the man as he started to become less of what was shocking to see. He was now the Morrissey he'd been during social gatherings.

The shy one that never knew what people wanted, wanting to know what people were thinking but too focused in pretending he didn't care. But now, it was more clear. 

He was waiting for Johnny to say something, Johnny could tell by the pleading blue eyes staring at him through his eyelashes. 

"You're gorgeous." He said without hesitation, not exactly thinking of anything specifically he wanted to say. He just said what he was thinking the whole way through the encounter. 

As if possible, Morrissey's cheeks tinted a darker shade of pink. "Is that why you watch me?" he asked, his voice softened by the vulnerability he obviously felt. 

Johnny breathed in, "Did.. you know about this all along?" 

He didn't want to know the answer, quickly feeling embarrassed. He was sure his face was red, darker than Morrissey's own he was sporting currently. Morrissey slightly shook his head, not exactly moving as much as he thought but Johnny got it, "I noticed two weeks ago."

Johnny wanted to die. God, how creepy was he? Moz probably did that out of pity for Johnny. If it were true, Johnny would likely run away to the states and never return. How do you live down stalking someone? 

Before Johnny could stop himself, he asked, "What about the pictures?" 

He's so fucking stupid. 

"Oh, yeah." Morrissey brushed his hair away from his face, "I'd like to see them. If you don't mind?" 

Johnny opened his mouth and Morrissey gave him a small smile. "You're alright with it?" 

"I... think I am. It's flattering... Maybe because it's you. Yeah, I decided it's alright, since in exchange for those photos, you might accompany me next Thursday to a nice record listening in my room?" Morrissey proposed. Johnny looked in disbelief, swallowing as he ran a hand through his dark hair, "Uhm, yeah. Alright. Thursday."


End file.
